


Like some phantom in my throat

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Derek fails at communication, Future Fic, M/M, Stiles loves him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, it seems like there’s no logic to it. There will be a day, or even a long string of days, where Derek cannot stay away, and then, like flipping a lighter closed over the flame, Derek cannot get away from Stiles fast enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like some phantom in my throat

**Author's Note:**

> I'm allergic to life, and so that sometimes carries over into my fics. I was spreading sunbutter over my brown rice bread this morning, and I couldn't stop thinking about the first few lines of this fic, so here it is.

At first, it seems like there’s no logic to it. There will be a day, or even a long string of days, where Derek cannot stay away, and then, like flipping a lighter closed over the flame, Derek cannot get away from Stiles fast enough. He may not flee, but from the taut muscles of his back and shoulders, from the haunted look in his eyes, Stiles knows that the intent is there.

It hurts.

Of course it does. In what world would it not bewilder and devastate him when his boyfriend gets it in his head to cut Stiles out of his life for a day? Still, he never says anything, and Derek certainly never volunteers an explanation, though there has to be one. It probably even makes sense, because Derek always has reasons for the things that he does, even if he rarely shares them.

He stays confused about the whole thing for the better and worse parts of the summer before his freshman year of college, and halfway into the fall semester. Derek never visits him on the nights Stiles has study sessions with the small group of friends he has made outside of the pack at the local community college, and he tends to make himself scarce when all Stiles has time to do is throw together a pile of peanut butter and banana sandwiches, but he loves to come over when Stiles and the sheriff have dinner together, and Stiles actually takes the time to order takeout or make a hot meal.

It isn’t until he heads over to the Hale house the night after Halloween, a leftover bag of candy in his hand for him and the rest of the pack to snack on, that things start to make sense. The bag is an assortment of chocolate and peanut butter candy, and Derek stares at the brightly designed package in the same way Isaac sometimes stares at closets and other small, enclosed spaces.

Stiles looks from Derek to the bag, walks back out to his jeep, and puts it in the trunk. He goes back inside and suggests that they order pizza, instead, and feigns oblivion at Derek’s one unguarded moment of gratitude. The pack has its meeting, and then devours six large pizzas, and Stiles reflects that it is better that way. His one bag of candy wouldn’t have been nearly enough.

The next day is a Saturday, and Derek comes over for their usual date night, which is really just the two of them laying together on the couch and watching old episodes of _Smallville_. It was something Derek used to watch with his mom and his younger sister, Mariah, and he couldn’t handle it in the years between the fire and coming back to Beacon Hills, but Derek’s been getting curious recently about all the things he didn’t allow himself to do after the fire, and Stiles is more than willing to share his rediscovery.

Before turning on the DVD player, Stiles runs a hand along Derek’s back and asks, “So, is it just peanuts, or is it tree nuts, too?”

Derek stiffens, and Stiles waits, careful to keep himself calm and open. “It’s just peanuts.”

“How is that even possible? I didn’t think werewolves could have problems with anything other than wolfsbane, and that isn’t an allergy, it’s more like some kind of super intolerance.”

Apparently using his, ‘let me dissect you and learn everything about you before putting you back together,’ voice was the right tactic, because Derek treats it the way he treats any of the million questions Stiles has about werewolves, using it as a teaching opportunity. “A werewolf doesn’t shift until his thirteenth birthday. Until then, he has the same strengths and weaknesses as any human. I wasn’t the healthiest kid before my first shift. I was smaller than the rest of my family. I had breathing problems, and I had allergies. Peanuts were the worst. I had to go to the hospital because of peanuts three times when I was a kid. After my first shift, the problems with my immune system went away, but the memories of what happened didn’t.”

Thinking about all of Derek’s quick exits and not-quite-nervous looks, Stiles muses, “So, it’s like PTSD, almost? And smelling it on people is one of your triggers?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He sounds wary now, as though he isn’t sure whether this will be the thing that makes Stiles decide he has one hangup too many.

Derek should have more faith, although Stiles understands vividly why he doesn’t. But really, who needs Reese's when the alternative is Derek Hale? “How do you feel about Almond Joys?”


End file.
